


Justifying the Means

by jucee



Category: Slam Dunk
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-19
Updated: 2012-06-19
Packaged: 2017-11-08 02:21:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/438077
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jucee/pseuds/jucee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They sit on the floor of Rukawa’s bedroom and pretend to do homework, as they always do whenever Sakuragi comes over to make out and mooch dinner.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Justifying the Means

They sit on the floor of Rukawa’s bedroom and pretend to do homework, as they always do whenever Sakuragi comes over to make out and mooch dinner (but mostly to make out). They have some sheets spread out on the low table, and Rukawa thinks that it may be last week’s homework, but then what does he know about it anyway -- he doesn’t even know how or why he has these sheets to begin with (though he suspects that Kuwata stuffs them into his bag when he isn’t looking).

He scribbles some numbers on a page covered with mathematical symbols he’s never seen before, and every now and again he glances up to check if Sakuragi has had enough of the pretending yet so that they can get on with it already. He watches Sakuragi scratch out a few katakana characters on what he’s pretty sure is a page of English exercises, until finally Sakuragi grunts, pushes the sheet away with a careless hand and demands, “Okay, let’s get on with it already.”

Rukawa drops his pen, grabs Sakuragi by the collar of his white t-shirt and yanks hard, pulling the redhead off-balance so that he sort of topples over on to Rukawa. As always, Sakuragi is too heavy, but the position has certain benefits. Rukawa had become half-hard already (it’s kind of weird, he knows) as he watched Sakuragi scrawling random words with his blunt pencil, and now the weight of Sakuragi’s hips grinding against his own makes him _hurt_ , his cock swelling in the tight confines of his uniform trousers, blood leaving his head in a dizzying rush. Their mouths meet with more hunger than finesse, their teeth clacking once, twice, and in Sakuragi’s mouth Rukawa can taste the ramen they ate for dinner, as well as something metallic and warm.

“I think I’m bleeding,” Sakuragi mumbles, their kiss-swollen lips still touching so that Rukawa feels the words as he hears them, swallows them along with the taste of ramen and blood and Sakuragi. He works a hand between their bodies, under the faded and thin t-shirt, and he pinches the nipple that he’s been almost (but not quite) able to see all evening, scraping his fingernail over it, back and forth, until Sakuragi moans into his mouth, and he swallows that too.

When Sakuragi comes, with his pants barely pulled down and his ass hanging out, it isn’t pretty: his cheeks are flushed dark red, his eyes squeezed shut, his mouth hanging open, his breath washing hot and moist over Rukawa’s cheek. And when Rukawa comes, with Sakuragi’s rough, rough hand jerking and rubbing and _so good_ , he can still taste Sakuragi in his mouth, on his tongue, and he probably doesn’t look all that pretty either.

They wipe at their trousers with a fistful of tissues, cleaning off the worst of the mess, and as they zip up Sakuragi talks about something and nothing and everything, his cheeks still a bit flushed. He leaves with casual words (“later, Kitsune”) spoken in a voice that’s almost (but not quite) as loud and grating as it normally is.

The homework sheets are scattered all over the floor, stained with white flecks here and there. Rukawa scrunches them up and tosses them halfway across the room into the wastepaper basket beside his bed. He’ll have new ones the next time Sakuragi comes over to make out and mooch dinner (but mostly to make out).


End file.
